Here are two challenging casting situations; see if you can figure out the best fixes for the problems.

1)  Bob is out fishing the redfish flats in Texas.  As usual, the wind is pulsing off the Gulf of Mexico at a steady 20-mph kick.  Bob has a school of tailing reds right in front of him, about 40 feet away.  Unfortunately that wind is straight off his right side, and Bob is right handed.   In other words, when he goes to make that cast, his line--sometimes even his fly (ouch)--smacks right into his head.  He would cast left handed if he weren't a complete spaz with his non-dominant hand. 

What does he do to fix his problem?

2) This is a true story.  Rusty, a guide, is working a salmon run in Alaska with one of his favorite repeat customers.  Sadly, Bill, the customer, has developed Parkinson's disease... he is still crazy about flyfishing, and sharp as a tack.  He can even manage to cast pretty well.  Problem is, those darn tremors make his arm shake so badly that he jerks and wiggles the flies... so much that the fish won't give them an interested glimpse.

But Rusty suggests one change for Bill... it works, and they catch fish all day.  What was the change?

The question can be taken two ways.  On the one hand, I'm wondering how big a fish has to be before you call it big?  For me, the magic number for trout has always been 20-inches. 

By any definition, this brown trout caught by Anne Hamner on the Rio Irigoyen in Argentina is mucho trucha...  a lot 'o trout.  It weighed 24 pounds.  She released it.

Here's the question that's more fun.  What do you call that big daddy when you catch him?  I'm a little weary on the pork product descriptions... e.g. a "pig," a "hawg," a "slab."

I like some reptile references... a "toad," a "gator" among them.  Beast works.  Behemoth is better.  Monster... eh.  

Trophy? Too sterile.  Wallhanger.  Too deer hunting.

I need a word, and I promise that if you give me a really good moniker for a gigantic fish, I will steal it, and write it in the magazine story I'm working on now (without crediting you).  At least I'm telling you up-front... and I will let you know which story and what issue it's running in.  It's the least I could do for an assist from my fishing pals.

Deeter

Because I love flyfishing, more than any other fishing?  Or I wear a Simms hat?

After all, I also like to fish with baitcasters, and spinning gear.  I like trolling too.  But I find the technical challenges of casting and presenting flies most fun.  And I'll cast a fly at just about anything: smallies, largemouths, pike, carp... but I've never called that brownlining.  Just fishing.  I live in Colorado because I like trout fishing best.

I have a lot of gear.  Some expensive stuff, some not.  I see fish better with $150 sunglasses than I do with $30 sunglasses.  One pair of $150 boots lasts longer for me than three pairs of $60 boots... I've learned that math the hard way.  I tie my own crappy flies, and I don't own a bamboo rod.

I appreciate the artistry of David Allan Coe as much or more than that of David Allen Sibley.

I think companies that perpetuate the "exclusivity" of flyfishing are strangling the sport and kidding themselves.  Nothing disgusts me more than a gimp with money who hangs "no trespassing" signs around a river they cannot fish.

I release 99 percent of the fish I catch.  That's mostly because I like to eat chiken and beef more than fish.  I do think meat fishing for stockers is boring.

My secret agenda with this blog in Field & Stream land is to convert the bass nation, one angler at a time, to flyfishing.  I think there's room on the water for everyone.  I've had enough of the "us and them" argument.  I will say this though: I don't think anyone is a complete angler until they do cross over... conventional to fly, and yes indeed, fly to conventional.  What say you?

And tell me... is my nose in the air?  If it is, it's only because I smell a rotten attitude.

Deeter

First, the easy stuff...

Okay, so many of you crushed the quiz answer.  Way to go.  I'll think up something more tricky next time. 

When you are fishing a dry fly hatch, and you know what the insects are, and you make a great cast, and your presentation is perfect... and the fish still refuses the fly (especially when you see the trout come and check your fly out but it takes a pass)...

The best thing to do is size down on your dry fly.  If you're fishing a size #16, for example, drop down to a size #18 or #20.  That should do the trick if your fly looks like the naturals.  Size down before you tinker with smaller tippet, or switch patterns.  I'd switch patterns as plan B, and tie on a cripple.  Before I drop down in tippet, I'd probably just work another fish or two.

Photo by Tim Romano

And the caption contest...

After careful thought, we're going with "Bob" who said:

"Having forgotten to pack Kleenex, Jimmy was forced to improvise."

Which was, among the many witty entries, just gross enough to win Tim over.  I liked them all, and you can count on more caption games in the near future.

Bob, hit me at editor@anglingtrade.com and we'll send your prizes.

Deeter